


½

by suju786



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Body Worship, Bottom Oikawa Tooru, College Idiots, Literally just Oikawa getting smashed, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Top Iwaizumi Hajime, bareback, three second cameo of Oik's daddy kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-28
Updated: 2017-12-28
Packaged: 2019-02-22 21:41:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13175754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suju786/pseuds/suju786
Summary: Uncalibrated weight scales ruin lives. And Iwaizumi's sleep.





	½

When Oikawa goes to college and gains literally less than half a pound he goes entirely ballistic and cries for exactly two hours and twenty-two minutes about how he’s never going to be beautiful again. Iwaizumi wastes no more than exactly sixty seconds trying to console him before he gets distracted.

He likes that unnoticeable extra half pound after all. He likes that he has something to grab onto now when he picks Oikawa up, likes the way his bum reds up and bounces just a little more on his dick when he fucks up into him, likes the smoother curves and the fuller cheeks (both sets) and the softer thighs. He likes it all far too much to care about the singular half pound Oikawa seems to have deluded himself into having gained.

So he reaches around him in bed that early morning when he starts crying about how ‘unfit’ he’s become because he literally skipped out on a few days of practice at the coach’s demand and had been stress eating ever since midterms began, and grabs himself a handful of luscious _ass_ and squeezes with a lazy smile and a long satisfied groan. Oikawa promptly stops crying and resorts to sniffling when he accuses Iwaizumi of being too much of a horny Neanderthal to listen patiently to his important life problems.

“ ‘S not a problem, you dumb hoe.” Iwaizumi grunts back, pleasantly buzzed with the sleep he’d just rudely been awakened from, “it’s...,” he smiles, reaching around with his other hand to squeeze up another handful of Oikawa’s bum, “... fuckin’ _awesome,”_ he slurs, tongue still heavy with sleep.

Oikawa rolls his eyes and groans at that like he’s going to start crying again. “Go jerk off and die if you don’t want to listen to me,” he grumbles back moodily. “I’m listening, dumbass,” Iwaizumi mutters back tiredly, massaging his fingers through the tight flesh appreciatively, “you think you’re fat.”

 

A horrified sound reminiscent of squeaking mouse pops out of the brunette beside him, and Iwaizumi can only snort when a warbled _Hajime you fucking piece of crap_ comes simpering out of his distraught boyfriend. _“Tooru,”_ he sighs, finally turning his face out of his pillow with the enthusiasm of something dead because he honestly can’t believe this charade’s still going on. He leads with, “you’re fucking _gorgeous,_ you’re never going to _stop_ being gorgeous, not to me anyway.” He sees the exact moment at which message hits home when Oikawa begins to flush slowly - _“yeah but I’ve gone up a pound.”_

Iwaizumi gives up. _WASN’T IT HALF A POUND,_ he wants to scream back like a madman, mind positively _spinning_ with irritation and forced insomnia. But he can’t go back to sleep, not now, not even by ignoring Oikawa so he decides on the next best thing to do and promptly rolls up onto his knees and leans over his boyfriend, teeth bared and brow drawn.

 _“And you think I don’t like it?”_ He growls when he’s sure Oikawa’s attention is entirely on him. _“Hah?”_ He insists, “you dumb fucking _fuck,”_ he squeezes the mounds of soft flesh in his hands with the intent to bruise, “you don’t think I fucking _like_ this? _This?”_ He grips on tight and slams himself between his boyfriend’s thighs, reveling in the surprised gasp he gets for his trouble, _“mmmh,”_ he groans loudly in spite himself, shutting his eyes against the burst of liquid pleasure. “Babe, I fucking _love_ this thing,” he whispers down into Oikawa’s ear softly, fingers stroking slowly into his cleft with the tips of fingers prodding gently against the small furled hole, still wet and slippery from last night.

“Love it when it’s in those ugly ass Darth Vader pajamas of yours,” Oikawa huffs something about his gross disinterest in Star Wars, “when its coming down the stairs of the student center, when its working in the gym in those fucking short ass shorts, calling to _every single fucking Tool in there_ , when it’s bouncing on - my - fucking -cock,” he accentuates the last few words, with pointed thrusts against the brunette’s groin.

“I fucking,” he mouths at the brunette’s neck, nudging him into tilting his head so that he has more space to work with as he whispers, _“love,”_ he bites into soft, sex-scented skin _, “_ your body, Tooru.” And the latter moans softly, spreading his thighs and gripping onto Iwaizumi’s shoulders as the man grinds down against him. “Again,” he murmurs back to his woefully indulgent boyfriend, “say it again.”

“I love your body, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi kisses him full on the mouth to balance out the insult, “it turns me the fuck on and it’s going to _keep_ turning me the fuck on no matter how it changes because I fucking _love you,_ okay?” And he means for that to be the end of it. Oikawa will grin sheepishly and nod and they’ll cuddle a bit and hopefully sleep until one of them gets hungry enough to leave the warmth of the bed.

But then Oikawa just has to fucking stare up at him with those big soft milky choco eyes like he put the very stars in the sky, and Iwaizumi’s stomach flips.

He feels it tense up like a rock in anticipation, abs clenching, teeth grinding, and jaw ticking. Beneath the sheets, he’s already unnecessarily hard for no real reason at all, because really? How bad is his sex life that he’s getting turned on by the most disastrous bedhead in existence and puffy eyes? But his mind’s filled with the filthiest of images of that bedhead getting even trashier on a pillow and those bloodshot eyes filling with tears of uncontainable bliss nonetheless, and he glances down between them to watch the growing impression of his cock rub up against Oikawa’s, which is hidden beneath the adorably baggy sweater he’s in. It’s one of Iwaizumi’s which makes it all the better, and he finds himself smiling slowly in spite himself as a sense of pride and truly base ownership come over him.

 

“This is so fucking dumb,” he grunts offhandedly to himself because his life is truly so fucking weird with all its unnecessary drama. Predictably, another horrified noise squeaks out of his boyfriend because _of course_ anything Oikawa hears is somehow a challenge he needs to fight by being extra.But, “not you,” Iwaizumi clarifies before he can even start.

Pulling a hand free, he reaches around to lift up Oikawa’s sweater while he himself shimmies out of the bed covers. “Hold it up, lemme’ look,” he mutters, feeling the familiar filthy appreciative grin in his voice taking over at the sight of his boyfriend’s pretty fucking cock before he can stop it.  _He's so fucking whipped it's nearly disgusting._ Kuroo and Bokuto will never let him forget it.

 “God, _look at you_ , babe,” he coos out softly anyway because he’s a grown ass man who knows how to compliment his gorgeous ass, irrationally sensitive boyfriend without the veil of an insult, also he’d grown out of that phase a few months ago. He continues, knowing without having to look, that Oikawa’s beginning burn up, scarlet climbing up high onto the apples of his soft cheeks: “you’re perfect,” he leans down to press a trail of soft kisses down the center of his chest all the way down to his abdomen, “perfect - so perfect for me, my perfect fucking dumbass-.”

“Hajime,” Oikawa starts whining predictably.

 _“Spread Tooru,”_ he murmurs, ignoring him as his own dick springs free of the sheets while he nudges apart the brunette’s thighs and Oikawa keeps his sweatshirt hiked up to beneath his collarbone. He revels in the way his once-upon-a-time captain _obeys,_ because to make someone like Oikawa Tooru _obey_ is a divine sort of feel all in its self; having him beneath you, blushing and shyly spreading his legs, lifting up his own baggy sweater to reveal his marked up chest and tits is quite another. Iwaizumi positively _glows_ as he counts up all twenty-seven darkening marks he’d taken the time to place on his boyfriend the previous night, before he leans down pushing Oikawa down the back of the headboard until he’s lying on the bed beneath him.

 

He kisses him again, slow and sweet this time, taking the time to rub his lips over and between Oikawa’s as he pries them open and nips them tender. In a minute, he finds himself laughing quietly against them too, soft huffs of air slipping between their lips just because he’s really far happier than he needs to be just kissing this fucking self-conscious idiot. “I love you, stupid,” he explains simply when Oikawa finally asks what exactly about this is tickling his funny bone so much. And the brunette flushes like _Iwa-chan’s the single most scandalous person alive talking dirty to him like this and fuck you, Iwa-chan you’re so mushy, I’m going to puke._ “Please don’t,” his boyfriend grunts, grimacing as his hand gets busy between them, fingers stroking gently into the slippery sensitive patch of skin just beneath Oikawa’s balls.

Oikawa whimpers, breath hitching and Iwaizumi’s wrist twists into a better angle and sinks lower to massage against Oikawa’s slick hole as he works his tongue into his mouth to rub it against the roof of his mouth. _“Relax, babe,”_ he murmurs a quick warning before he slides the tip of his middle finger past the wet ring of muscle into his clenching hole, and grins wild when he feels the viscosity of his own come from the night before slicking his way in. “Babe, you’re so loose,” he leers softly, twining his tongue wetly through his boyfriend’s as he pumps a second finger into the delicious warmth while Oikawa whimpers and squirms.

 

“That was… your fault, you beast,” he whines as he pulls away from Iwaizumi, and the man tries following his retreating lips out of pure habit. “Does it hurt still?” He asks when he catches himself and stills. Oikawa blinks up, head falling back to the pillow. “I mean... _a little,”_ he shrugs, lowering his gaze with purpose so that he can look up at Iwaizumi through those long thick eyelashes of his, “Iwa-chan’s _soooo_ big after all, and…,” he lifts his gaze that strategic two centimeters before he says, “Iwa-chan made me _soooo so_ full last night.”

 _“Fuck,”_ his boyfriend swears, fingers stalling in just the right place in his hole - fingertips resting on that beautifully sensitive little button of pleasure within him - olive green eyes wide and glinting like an animal’s. _“Tooru,”_ he starts, breathless as he leans forward, smile as toothy as it is sharp as he bares the entire savage width of it, fingers sinking deep into his warm depths as he repeats, _“Tooru - Tooru, fuck,_ don’t _ever_ say that anyone else but me.”

Oikawa glances up, eyes flickering with the delight of having stepped on just the right nerve. “Well I _was_ thinking of having Tetsu-chan- _hooooooooly ffffuck-!”_ He yelps when his boyfriend suddenly grinds his thick fingers deep into his prostate and scrapes his short nails against the perfect bundle of nerves in a way that leaves Oikawa breathless and an inch away from - an inch too close to a delicious orgasm.

“I’m kidding, kidding, _kidding -_  oh my  _GodI'mkidding-!"_ He gasps, squirming furiously in a weak attempt to ease off the pressure on that sensitive spot, loath to come by himself without his boyfriend’s cock in him. “Iwa-chan, don’t be so mean-,” he whimpers with tears dotting the corners of his pretty eyes when the latter rolls his own sea-greens and mutters something to the effect of  _dumb fucking attractive Kuroo_ as he pulls his fingers halfway out then pushes down.

 

 _“What’re you-?”_ Oikawa frowns, glancing down the length of his body when he feels the gentle push of Iwaizumi’s cock against his full entrance. “What’re you doing… Iwa-chan _what…?”_ He moans when he feels of the blunt head of the man’s dick pushing in insistently, “pull - your _fingers_ out, you _brute-.”_

“Think it’ll fit?”

Oikawa blinks, eyes widening as he glances up and finds his boyfriend’s eyes transfixed down below. _“Iwa-chan,”_ he starts carefully, “Iwa-chan, what’re you think-?” He chokes, breath cut off abruptly when his boyfriend slides slow and careful into him without another word and he ends up feeling more stuffed than he’s ever felt before in his life because what the fucking wonderful  _fuck_ of all  _fucks._  He begins panting, hands flailing as they search for handfuls of sheet, hair, skin, _something_ to grab and hold tight as Iwaizumi pushes deeper and deeper still, never ending, never fucking ending, all the while pumping his middle and index finger into Oikawa beneath his cock and-.

“Iwa-chanIwa-chan _\- Iwa-chaaan-,”_ he can’t breathe, he can't _breathe,_ thighs trembling because he can’t, he can’t, he just-, “oh-m-y- _GOD—,”_ he whimpers loudly, spreading his thighs more in an attempt to accommodate the extra stretch and whining as his boyfriend only thrusts deeper, hitting all the right spots in all the best ways. _“Too much?”_ Iwaizumi grunts at the tighter squeeze, smiling around his bitten lip and trying not to make it too obvious because he knows his stupid gorgeous idiot boyfriend is going to take it the wrong way if he catches him. But he seems too caught up in the moment to remember his name as it is, thrashing wildly with his toes curling so hard Iwaizumi can hear them snap, crackle, and pop.

 

“More, more, _more-,”_ He’s begging before he knows what he’s saying, “Iwa-chan, _Hajime,”_ he incites something animal-like out his boyfriend that time as he clenches reflexively around him, “move, _move, Baby move - it’s-s s-sssoo good-,”_ words start stalling in his mouth when Iwaizumi starts laughing quietly - a soft deep rumble vibrating up from the deepest depths of his chest as he watches Oikawa unravel beneath him.

 

“Yeah?...” He hums back quietly, pressing his fingers through the slick channel and doing the same with his cock, knowing better than to plow him into the mattress right off the bat. Slow and steady had its perks as they’d both well learned since their rushed quickies in high school. So he leans down to drop his forehead against the brunette’s, eyes wide open as he drinks in the sight and keeps moving, moving, _moving_.

“You’re...,” Iwaizumi shakes his head as he does - as he watches that beautiful idiot twist and turn and gasp and cry - chest tightening with a fondness that was entirely out of place given the situation, “... gorgeous,” he sighs wistfully as Oikawa finally turns to look up at him, shaking all over, “so gorgeous like this, I swear...” he mutters. “Fuck,” he cusses quietly when Oikawa physically reacts to that, tightening around him without even thinking, thighs twitching together self-consciously. 

 _“Fuck,”_ he repeats, turning down to watch between their bodies, “sometimes I don’t even know how I landed you, Jesus Christ -," he rambles, trying to distract himself from coming too quickly because Jesus  _fuck,_ his boyfriend's so  _so_ hot. "You’re fucking,” he grunts, sinking his dick back into his boyfriend having inched it out a moment earlier, “gorgeous - mh.”

He glances up belatedly, mind still spinning with dizzying pleasure, when he feels Oikawa’s hands rapidly fumbling to wrap around the bottom of his face and shut him up before he can finish. “What?” He mutters into his palm, and then freaks out when he sees the sudden flood of tears turning his boyfriend’s eyes excessively glassy and threatening to spill at the first hint of a blink. Iwaizumi quickly pulls his fingers out, thoughts immediately flocking to the possibility of having pushed too far with the extra stretch, “why-? Does it hurt? Tooru, what is it? What is it - do want to st-?”

 

“D-Don’t-,” he mumbles the rest so low that Iwaizumi has to frown and duck low with a wrinkle in his nose, asking “what?”

“God, don’t _say_ it like that,” Oikawa whimpers, voice shaky, hands shakier.

 

Iwaizumi stalls for 2 seconds to _stare_. And then he takes a 180 and suddenly grins like a cat that’s gotten its milk. Not even a month with Kuroo on their university team and he’s picked up that singular bad habit while Oikawa had picked up on all the rest. “Why not?” He leers down, far too sly for his own liking as he begins flexing his waist between his boyfriend’s thighs. “I love you,” he insists because he honestly loves the way those three words feel in his mouth, also he likes embarrassing the most embarrassing guy alive. “Baby, I _adore_ you, I’m fucking _obsessed_ with you,” he buries his face in Oikawa’s neck, “downright _besotted -,”_ he groans, pumping faster and faster into the younger’s hole and loving the way he’s coming apart at the seams right through his fingers, “I’d fucking _worship_ you if I could. _Fuck-!”_ He roars, abruptly lifting off Oikawa and grabbing his ankles to hold him open as he slams deep into him making him scream loud and high once before he catches himself and slaps his mouth shut with both hands.

He melts into mush beneath his palms after that, tears leaking from his eyes, moaning and moaning and _moaning_ , legs trembling in Iwaizumi’s tight grasp, body shaking at the mercy of his ruthless beat. “Ha-jime, Haji-me,” he’s choking and sobbing and trying to shut himself up at the same time but-.

“Hands off,” his boyfriend growls down at him, letting go of one of Oikawa’s ankles to lean back down and tug the brunette’s hands. “Tooru, _hands,”_ he insists tugging harder until he ends up needing to grab both his wrists in his one hand and to wrench them above his head where he holds them captive while noise - pure senseless desperate noise - bubbles over and out of Oikawa.

And for a minute he gets that face like he’s worried and self-conscious about shattering in front of someone _else,_ someone that can potentially use this one weakness against him. So, “it’s me,” Iwaizumi reminds him, dipping back down, pulling all manners of acrobatics, with his one hand holding out Oikawa’s ankle, the other raised up above their heads wrapped mercilessly tight around his bony wrists, just to kiss him. “It’s me,” he repeats, tongue swirling down and around Oikawa’s as he says, “baby, it’s only me, don’t worry-,” he smiles when he feels his boyfriend begin to give in and moan softly into his mouth.

 

“There you go, _there_ you go,” he purrs warmly against him, “get loud for me,” he grins wider at the sudden hiccup Oikawa squeaks out when he changes his angle ever so subtly before his next thrust. “Just like... that,” he urges him in a low voice as he drops Oikawa’s wrists and reaches down to wrap an arm around and under the small of his arched back. “Just like that - _mmmh_ baby, scream for me. _Scream_ for me, Tooru,” and he’s smiling like a crazy person right now, kissing those choked little breaths right out of the younger’s mouth because he knows he’s in the right place, knows his dick is slamming head on into his boyfriend’s prostrate just the way he loves, driving him in-fucking-sane because he’s crying again.

“HajimeHajime-,” he's gasping helplessly, clinging to his broad shoulders, bouncing perfectly beneath him and trying not to whine more than he already is as Iwaizumi tightens the curl of his arm around his back, arching him up higher and -, “there-!” Oikawa twists sharply in his arms, head snapping back against his pillow as he tugs desperately at his boyfriend. “Hajime-right-thereohmy _god_ baby _please-!”_ He cries, voice climbing higher and higher as he pushes himself into Iwaizumi’s thrusts because it’s not enough, it’s not enough, it’s not-, “deeper, harder, faster-,” _God, he’s such a slut for him_ -, “fuck me, _fuck me,_ Hajime fuck-,” he yelps abruptly when the man suddenly unwinds from him, large warm hands leaving his legs and back to fall back into the mattress with a bounce as he reaches somewhere above Oikawa.

 

“What’re you-?” Oikawa starts dazedly, slowly beginning to come down from his high until-. _“Oh-!”_ He chokes.

 

Iwaizumi grins as he grabs the headboard for better leverage, smiling something crazy when he hears Oikawa screaming - _really_ screaming - at the next few powerful thrusts. “Yeah, you like that baby?” He leers down at him, drunk on lust, drunk on _him_ , “huh, Tooru? That good for you baby? You enjoying yourself? _Fuck-!”_ He growls, pumping his hips faster when he feels his boyfriend beginning to come untouched, “my pretty little kitten,” he urges him along with dirty talk, slamming home deep in his body as Oikawa flails and goes rigid all at once, “daddy’s. Pretty. Little. Kitten, you going to come for me, kitten?”

And Oikawa nods, panting, eyes fallen shut because he hasn’t the energy to keep them open anymore, with broken words of _yes, daddy,_ ** _daddy,_** _coming, coming, “_ Hajime I-I’m c-com-,” and he finally does, gasping breathlessly and shooting all across his stomach and chest, back arching nearly completely off the mattress, hole clenching frantically around Iwaizumi’s massive girth. His soft brown eyes roll somewhere back into his head as he shuts them and his brow crooks like he’s in pain as he twists his fingers through the baggy sweater and his legs tremble weakly. _HajimeHajimeHajime_ he moans the entire time struggling between keeping his oversensitive thighs open for Iwaizumi to finish and just giving in and shutting them.

He isn’t given much of a choice when Iwaizumi grabs them and wrenches them open, smiling down rabidly at him as his rhythm picks up and becomes uncoordinated and utterly savage.

Oikawa lets him go at it for a few seconds like that, mind entirely fried as he turns his head away, and covers his face with a handto regain just an ounce of composure before he slowly turns back and smiles wide and sweet. The smile his boyfriend loves is the realest one in his stock, the asymmetric one that reaches his eyes and accentuates the lopsidedness of his entire face and makes him look possessed of pure happiness. It’s the one he smiles this time as he lifts his hands out to the love of his life and calls to him softly, voice tender with affection: **_“Hajime.”_**

 

And he honestly doesn’t expect it to work as well as it does, but it _does_ because boom! Iwaizumi comes suddenly and instantly like that singular word said in that singular way would’ve been enough to make him come all along, like sex was just a plus. Oikawa coughs because he’s genuinely surprised, and he’s a terribly hard person to surprise but-. _“Oh,”_ he mumbles simply, eyes soft and shuttering but never leaving Iwaizumi’s face as his hands fall out of the air and onto his stomach, just above his navel where he can _feel_ the searing liquid warmth spreading up into him.

“Hajime-,” he starts with another half of a laugh, “Hajime that was- _uuunnnggghh,”_ he never finishes, fingers spasming helplessly over his abdomen, as he curls up defensively and turns away with a pinched grimace as Iwaizumi sinks deep into him as a warning because they both know Oikawa’s oversensitive in the best and worst way in that moment.

“Oi Shittykawa,” Oikawa glances back, still trembling. “I love your dumb fucking ass and all but,” Iwaizumi lifts his head slowly, evergreen eyes glinting with something absolutely fucking terrifying and stupidly sexy. “Do. _Not,”_ his eyes widen a little crazily while Oikawa starts laughing nervously, “fucking start with me again after waking me up at TWO FUCKING AM-,” he stabs a finger into the direction of the alarm clock on their nightstand, “to whine about your NONEXISTENT FAT.” He then promptly snaps his already hardening dick out of his stupid gorgeous boyfriend, rolls as aggressively as a human can possibly roll and splays himself on the far right side of the bed where he can hopefully go back to sleep in peace.

 

Not that he has much hope of that happening anytime soon what with a boyfriend like Oikawa. So he finds that he isn’t even the slightest bit surprised or any more irritated than he already is when he feels his boyfriend’s far too hot self snuggle into his side a long minute later, disastrous bedhead tickling up under his jaw as he presses his soft abused lips to Iwaizumi’s ear and serenades him with the usual, “Iiiiwa-chaaaaan.”

 

“Tsk.” Iwaizumi can’t even help the knee-jerk response at this point anymore; he’s a miserable failure at administering silent treatment, he knows. _“What.”_ He grunts in spite himself.

“Thanks for fucking some of your confidence into me.” Iwaizumi groans like he’s going to die because _of course_ his boyfriend would put it like that. “I really... _really_ liked it.” Oikawa does that soft laugh of his that Iwaizumi loves to hate and hates to love as he brushes his lips down his boyfriend’s strong jaw. “My man’s...,” he starts whispering again, breath tickling against Iwaizumi’s nape, “the beeeeeeest kind of man there is.”

 

“Mmmm-hm,” Iwaizumi grunts back, rubbing a hand over his face.

“And Tooru loooooooooooves-,” Iwaizumi cringes, “him _soooooooooo_ so much.”

 _“Gross.”_ Iwaizumi mutters back half heartedly.

 

“Would you really worship me if you could?”

_“I’ll shave you bald while you’re sleeping, dipshit.”_

_“RUDE_ IWA-CHAN.”

“Don’t test me, nerd.”

 

* * *

 

 

It’s late the following night when Oikawa gets back from hanging with Kuroo and Bokuto and yells, _ **“Iiiiiiiwa-chaaaaaaaaannnn!”** _ By way of obnoxious greeting at four in the fucking dawn ass morning. “Iwa-chan I lost the half pound! Apparently the weight scale in the gym was just uncalibrated so-.”

Iwaizumi’s bloodshot eyes snap open.

 

Yes.  _Yes._

Today was the day he was finally going to murder the love of his life.


End file.
